Yesterday after I picked the kids up from a morning of good, safe, physical activity in the form of Soccer Camp I took them to lunch at McDonald's for a super healthy lunch of cheeseburgers, french fries and Oreo McFlurries.
In an effort to find more good, clean wholesome fun I took a road trip out to Hoffman Farms on Scholls Ferry Road, waaaaaaaaaaay out there among the glorious, rolling green farms that form a checkerboard of choices for berry picking, organic produce and just plain good old family fun.
Mainly the only reason I chose Hoffman Farms is because I purchased a Groupon for $20 of picked berries for $10 and I like to make jam. And it was expiring yesterday. Yes, indeed, I have become the domestic diva my mother dreamed I could be. Minus the ability to sew. And craft. And cook and clean. But I can make the HELL out of jam. Just so you know.
We rolled up to the farm and I was kind of skeptical because I couldn't see a lot of cars in the parking lot, and that's usually my barometer for whether or not I think a place is going to be good, same thing with a restaurant. If I can't get a table, it's probably awesome.
What I THINK is that people just don't know how cool the place really is. Unfortunately (depending how you look at it) they don't have berries left to pick, they're picked out. Which for ME was awesome because I'm an instant gratification kind of gal. I was able to get my $20 worth of berries in less than three minutes out of my life.
Which was ALSO really handy because the kids came with me. And OY. What would have become of their berry fields and the store if the kids had ACTUALLY BEEN REQUIRED to do something, like help pick for example. Oh the drama.....
Behind the cute little store is an old green John Deere Tractor that has been turned into a playset with slides. I am willing to bet people drive out there to pick berries and bribe their kids with the ability to play on the slides when they are done if they are good and pick two bucket's worth. At least that's what I would do, me, mother of the year right here.
EVEN BETTER was the Schultze sitting behind the store. If you don't know what that is, its AKA a Honey Bucket, or porta potty or, as I like to call it the "outdoor shitter". They have it under a covered pop up tent thing, and I'm thinking to minimize the stench of hot rotten poop. It works for them.
THE FUNNIEST thing happened, Brady went down the slide a couple of times, and then started walking all funny, like he was trying to keep a basket of laundry from dropping out of his poop hole. He even put his little hand back there, ostensibly to keep it from crapping out.
He made one more trip down the slide and came up to me with little beads of oh-my-GOSH-I-might-crap-my-pants sweat dripping from his little red head.
I could tell by the look on his face what he needed so I walked him over to the appropriately brown colored outdoor shitter and let him in. What happened next was even funnier.
Let me just say the porta potties don't really have much sound protection. I could hear him grunting like a strong man lifting a semi-truck. But that's not even the best part. He yells, I mean YELLS "Can someone please open the door and get some fresh air in here for me?"
Um, no, I'm not touching that door with a ten foot pole covered in antibacterial hand gel thankyouverymuch. He just kept at it, and I swear to GOD about four cars full of people showed up and walked by as he was in there crapping, yelling and complaining about the smell. HIS smell. Of that he was perfectly clear.
So yeah, I'm thinking I need to give the kid a little more fiber.
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